


Sate

by GorseMonster, Sheshaventures



Series: Consumption [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Monsters, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sleepy Cuddles, Soul Bond, Tentacles, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-11-02 04:57:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20629022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GorseMonster/pseuds/GorseMonster, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sheshaventures/pseuds/Sheshaventures
Summary: Not all is fervor and fight. Stillness, too, has value.





	Sate

**Author's Note:**

> We all need a little more fluff in our lives.
> 
> Enjoy the snuggles!

He wasn't sure what hour it was when his eyes cracked open. The shutters were closed and light had yet to leak into the room. Perhaps it was just before dawn; that felt about right. The Warrior had turned from him at some point in the night, precariously shuffled to the edge of the bed, and with a soft smile he slid a hand across her, around her waist and pulled her up against him with a soft, contented rumble.

Pressing his nose against the top of her shoulder he breathed in slowly, making a content sound, and placing a sleepy, soft kiss of his lips against the back of her neck. He liked this peaceful contentment, and squeezed her, appreciating the warmth of her against him, a tired awe of her sleeping self that he couldn't help but blanket with the soft touch of his aether against hers.

His mind was not racing and neither was his body, and that was just fine; it was perfect in this moment, relaxing and resting his forehead against her shoulder.

A touch of aether, even as soft as he had made his, was enough to stir the Champion from her rest. Enough to wakefulness, but not alarm. She could never mistake his aether for anyone else's. Not with their souls entwined, not with a tiny part of him forever with her. Lips rest against her nape, and she smiles and hums softly.

He wrapped himself around her in all ways, comfort beyond measure, and he was warm against her body. Against her soul. She presses her body closer to him to seal out more of the chill of the pre-dawn air. It was persistent, but she sought out solace in his arms.

It was not the time for words, or even thoughts. Only this comfort, and she was happy for the peace between them.

Fingers slowly rub at the join of her arm and shoulder, and he notes the chill of the air, cooler months setting in. A soft trill escapes his lips, and she feels a heavy, radiating warmth covering her, wrapping around her, iridescent pitch feathers and smooth leather blanketing her body. The touch of another hand rests upon her, sheltering her, keeping her close.

He dotes on her in adoration, wanting her warm, wanting her safe, and the contented sounds she makes in her just-wakefulness sink into his soul, warming him from within. The faintest trickle of thought, more concepts and feelings and sensations than words drifts between them, but all that truly comes across is _ devotion, _ as he sighs a long, contented breath against her neck, kissing her there once again.

For a being so completely made of darkness, something she knew more abyssal cold than any other, he was _ so warm, _ like how a roaring hearth heats the skin, and the blazing sun warms bones, he somehow managed to be both.

Greedily she burrows closer, eyes not opening as additional limbs wrap around her body. Why should she, when it is him yet still? Warmth that is skin-deep, bone-deep, suffuses her and her lips part to give voice to her sigh of happiness. Sleep touches at the edges of her mind once more, brought about by sheer comfort, but she gently brushes it away. She would be awake to enjoy this for longer.

The conversation between them is instinct and primal, comfort and care and all things happy. No true words are needed, but she specifically reaches out to him to show how glad she is to be exactly here, exactly in this moment. She croons as he kisses her neck, her fingers finding his to grasp and hold, legs tangling with his own limbs.

A thought, lazily crossing her mind and into his, of burrowing even deeper into his heat. Of being swaddled more securely by a larger form. No words, just feelings, an unspoken question.

She is warm against him, but she would be warmer, were he to answer.

His body shifts, wiggling so he may fit neatly against her, as much skin in contact as he can manage, and then more as extra limbs wrap and squeeze her close. The sunny warmth of his presence is so different, so opposite from the usual frigid touch of his soul and vessel. Was it this radiant heat that he was once known for, in days long gone? The thought is brief and fleeting, and he makes a soft shushing noise in her ear. She may slumber again, if that is her wish.

The thought that passes across, clearer, more formed than others draws an interested trill from his chest. She can feel him smirking against the nape of her neck, and she swears she can hear the teasing lilt of his voice. _ More, hero? My greedy little beast, aren't you satisfied? _

Not a word of it is vocalised. She's unsure if it's even something he thought or if she has become so accustomed to his loving teasing. But she can feel the lazy touch of hard, metallic claws, and in the dim light beginning to creep into the room she can see the desaturated, darkened hue of his skin as he relaxes his hold on his appearance. Soft, sleepy kisses trail across her shoulders, and one hand slowly strokes from her ribs to her hip in lazy, affectionate petting.

A whisper of thought._ I never could be satisfied when it comes to you. _ That she feels more than thinks as he pulls her deep, deeper into his embrace. She could, perhaps, sleep for longer. Her body was certainly settled enough for it, borne on a cloud of lazy creature comforts and wrapped up entirely in him, his touch, his love, his affection. Then again, she would _ miss _ this fleeting peace, this doting touch.

From the bottom of her chest she purrs, ever present monster happy and stirring slightly. The sound combines with a hum from mortal lips at his ministrations, and sluggishly she takes in his slow relaxation.

_ How unfair for me to have such comfort, when you hold yourself at bay. _ Unspoken, a statement spoken only in flashes of emotion and ending in yet another question. She turns herself in his grasp, slowly, ignoring whatever protests are sure to come. She settles close to his chest, tucking herself under his chin. Here, she may _ feel _ him utter his comfortable sounds, as he may feel hers.

With a soft touch of lips to his throat, she nestles closer. She still craves the heat, craves more of it, of him, to be wrapped even more completely around her tiny form - the chill in the air had nothing to do with it now. How could she ever get enough of him? That would mean she'd grown bored.

And she could never do that, not with him.

He lets out a low, grumbling whine as she moves; he was so _ perfectly _ tucked in against her, the curves of his body neatly following hers. _ Why must you squirm so, hero? It was perfectly fine... _ and as she settles against his chest, lips touching his neck, he lets out a long, content purr of a sigh, clawed fingers stroking through her hair. _ This is good too, I suppose. _He braces her tightly against him, her warmth, his warmth mingling, soft kisses peppered on the top of her head as his ankles wove lazily together with hers.

The soft sounds of her own protests at his mortal body seem to have a slow effect, as limbs blanket her, shrouding her from the outside world, an almost pitch darkness beside the shimmer of stardust on the inner lining. _ Such a greedy, greedy hero. _ But he is so content, so relaxed that he eventually lets go of the grip he had on his physical form. Pulling her close, he slowly pulls himself to an upright sitting position, lifting to cradle her in a scythe-clawed hand as he dwarfs her body, an eldritch visage of four white eyes, head crowned and wreathed in silk cowl. He purrs lowly, such that it vibrates through her body, still silent as he holds her to him, affectionate touches to her face and shoulders.

It's debatable if they are still in the room, as leathery, feathered and feather-scaled wings shroud the two of them entirely, radiating a stellar warmth that seems to permeate not just skin and bones but through her very aether. She is so small, now, and she cannot see the content, reverent smile he wears, but she can feel it in the way his breaths draw contently through his body.

His breath moves her, a gentle, rocking motion, slowly bearing her up and down in a deeply soothing way. She is a ship borne aloft upon his currents, moving with the ebb and flow of his tide. The motion combined with the deep vibrations as he croons to her is more relaxing, more hypnotizing than any remedy, most effective at pulling her into an almost trance-like state. Her body and aether are heated and comforted, and like a cat she curls within his grasp. A small reach, a touch, and she grasps his aether and pulls it into her curl with her.

She is so very, very small, but she will give him comfort even as he comforts her. Emotions flow freely between them, safety and warmth and the highest form of contentment. A soft trill, a hum, at his affectionate touches, and she offers him the same. Fingers brushing where she may reach, knowing he will feel the sensations as her fingers touch scales, plating, feathers, and skin alike.

There is the faintest bit of illumination, where she is. A gentle pulse of starlight in the dark, unobtrusive, merely a presence of her living, mortal heart as it beats and her shimmering aether. Her face is pulled into a lopsided grin, bliss written over each and every one of her features. _ There you are, love of mine, there you are. _ Comfort and affection, and the world may turn without them, for all she cared. This moment, this instant, was enough for her. To be with him.

While his face is not one capable of emotion, his body language is gentle, soft and nothing short of reverent, drawing her close with colossal taloned fingers, large, delicate claws softly tracing her jaw, her neck, her shoulder. And then, with the slightest of touches, bumps the cool bone-metal of his face against her, four gleaming white pits flickering in an uncoordinated blink. A croon, a rumbling coo of adoration escapes him, and a cooler touch of velvet-smooth slinks along her body. One at first, then two, cushiony tendrils lacing around shoulders and body to embrace her with a firmness that hands are too dangerous to use for.

A delicate press of his masked face to her forehead, a kiss by way of the nature of the contact, a low, furnace-heated sigh escaping his body. He dotes on her so carefully, so sweetly despite being so terrifyingly monstrous, and the gentle touches of her hands to scales, bone-metal and the soft, velvety covering of his body makes him rattle a purr that permeates through her body.

He can see her, illuminated by the dim glow of stardust and his own fourfold gaze, and while he recognises within her, a monster as much as he is, a fragmented soul that once matched - no, surpassed - his own nature...he cherishes the delicate, trusting creature in his claws, curling them lightly to toy with unkempt morning hair. A feather-light touch of his aether to hers settles upon her like a silk sheet, covering yet far, far from smothering; letting her breathe and move her own unhindered, allowing her to gather it, fold it, pull it close, mould it exactly how she wishes for it to touch her. _ A sweet, greedy hero. Look at what a mess you've made of me. _

Silken touch drapes over her and she wraps it around as a second skin, pulling and weaving until there is no space left between them, for when given free rein she will _ always _ choose to be as close to him as possible, this beautiful monster who somehow chooses her again and again. She is a sunburst against him, heated through in every possible way and bolstered by her own inner warmth, her glow reaching through and touching where the parts of her reside within him. It is both a submission and an assertion, trust going both ways as they seek comfort in the manners that only they two may provide one another. _ You’re beautiful, is what you are. _

Small she may be, but she remains a multitude amplified by his touch - they had always been greater together than the parts that make up their individual selves. This remains true, as he presses the eldritch vision of his face against her, even as tiny as her mortal self may be she feels every inch as mighty as he. That cool texture meets her skin and she cannot resist the urge to pepper the surface with kisses. _ Both of us are a mess, I'm afraid. _

Every part of his face she can reach receives its own blessing, soft caresses of her lips, brushes by her fingers, until his bone-metal has warmed from her touch alone. Her breath is soft against that face, tendrils holding her tighter - much more to her liking - than clawed hands had, and as they give her a gentle squeeze she reaches down to run her hands along all that her arms allow._ But I suppose that's a good thing. _

The rumbling purr that emanates from within him vibrates throughout her body, and she cannot help but chuckle softly aloud - the first vocalizations made here in the dark, this sanctuary of their own making. Her body is suspended by him, her soul enveloped in him, vibrations and breathing a constant that brings thoughts of a most comfortable nest to cross their bond. Her monster is pleased, and so is the one inside of her. _ Because you're just as greedy as me. _

The four lights of his eyes dim, flicker and go out as he relaxes into the soft touches on velvet, feather and bone-metal, a subsonic rumble in his throat that she cannot quite _ hear _ but feels in a way that makes her lightheaded, only adding to the otherworldly embrace that blends physical and aetheric. The aching, painful void that his aether usually exudes replaced by a warm, immense calm, an embrace that fills the empty space it had been as she uses the threads of herself within him to share the hold he wraps her in.

He lifts her, carefully, pressing her whole body against the warmed metal of his face, and a third velvet-smooth tendril slides across her body, cradling her jaw and cheek, soft and delicate touches as he lays kiss after eldritch kiss with each touch of its smooth, rounded tip. Touches across her face, her neck, her shoulders, down her arms where it thins and laces and tangles around her fingers, squeezing them lovingly. _ Greedy, am I? When all I do is give, little hero? _ His laugh reverberates through her body, one of four eyes lighting up to gaze at her. She cannot see it but feels the smirk on him, how lips curl, catching on a tooth as they part to reveal teeth, canines ever-so-slightly too long, too sharp for a Garlean body.

He settles down, laying on his front, the two still wrapped in the endless abyss of nebulous wings, and he holds her close with smaller arms and veloured tentacles, keeping her lightly pressed against the cheek and jaw of his bone-metal visage. More touches of smooth velvet slip across and around her, tens, too many to easily count now as he creates for her a soft bed, a nest, a safe place to curl and wrap herself in physically, just as she has done aetherically. _ Yet not incorrect; I am all-too greedy in how I want to spend my every moment loving you. _

His amusement feels like a victory, his laugh music to her and she does not fight the smile that breaks upon her face, a dawn breaking more radiantly than any that has graced the sky above. Touches given with the spirit of a kiss and she, too, laughs out loud, mortal form wracked by his complete embrace and driving her own glee to be that much more sweet. He sees her, feels her, and she too finds his gaze in that one pale light. What she cannot feel she senses through their bond, but in truth she does not need it to discern him - she knows him so deeply, now, that he would be part of her even were they not bound.

That smile remains bright as he shifts, and she presses against him while he holds her close. A pleased sound slips from her lips at the first touch of more tendrils, a croon that slides into a happy excited noise as their number continues to increase. Matching nests within and without now, drawing a deeply satisfied feeling from the very core of her. To be safe, to have him safe, and _ himself _ in truth, to have this time for them and them alone. _ It is good, then, that I can give you that so easily. _

A deep sigh as sleep draws at her again while she settles into their nests, completely comfortable, but she fights it even as her eyes droop. She wants this, more of this, because truly she _is_ a creature of avarice when it comes to all things that involve him - but she is altruistic as well, willing to give anything, everything, just for him. _ But, oh, you spoil me so. _

Gentle, gold-clawed fingers trail down her body, down an arm to touch each fingertip delicately, watching her with a stillness, a peacefulness she does not know him for. He seems pleased with how he draws that laughter with kiss-like touches of tendrils and the gentle bumps of his own visage. One more light wakens on his visage, two eyes regarding her warmly as he settles her, draping one smaller hand across her body lovingly, guardingly.

_ Slumber, my hero. The night is still upon us, and the waking world can wait. I will be here, _ he reassures her, rumbling a low purr as her eyelids grow heavy. She does not feel the longing for this to last, because he does not feel as if it could be taken so easily. It would take forces beyond all mortal, all sundered touch for him to release her before she was done slumbering. Feeling her own contentment echoing through his bones, the lights of his face go out, and the weight of him settles against and around her, his aether relaxing so that it does not just knit itself with hers but blends into it in harmonious tone and hue.

With her eyes shut, almost as if she could sink into a veloured nest of tendrils as she does her slumber, she sees him, Emet-Selch, residing within aether, a shadow he has been bereft of in the shape of the monster holding her close. She feels warm, gloved fingers on her skin, and soft human lips on hers._ I do. And I could not cease to do so even if you asked, even if you begged. _

_ Now, won't you rest for me, mm? 'Tis such a wonderful way to pass the time. _

So trusting of him she is, even the most savage part of her, the most wary vestiges of primal being, that it is without hesitation for her to relax bonelessly into his hold. To simply _ be _ now, was her most sought after desire. To be, here with him. And she has that. A vision of him dances behind closed eyes and the touch of a kiss to her lips, fabric on her skin, draws a soft purr from her. All he is, is hers, and all she is as well belongs to him.

They blend into beauty, compatible beyond compare, and it is that feeling that lulls her to sleep. That, and the sound of his voice within her. But she will not go alone.

Much like as she spun his aether into her own, into a place of safety and rest for them to nest in, she does the same once more. But it is _ him _ she reaches for now, drawing part of his consciousness with her even as she slips into slumber. She may be greedy, but she would _ give, _ too. This peace, with her, with them and love - only love.

_ Together, then, my dear monster. _

He smiles contently, _ peacefully _ at her as within aether, gloved hands trail around her shoulders, touching just below her throat, a slow weight of aether winding through hers to caress at the beastly thing she is beneath all that flesh and blood. That _ beautiful _ beastly thing. And similarly, she reaches for him, through the artifice of a Garlean body, finding his shadow and gripping it tight, pulling it through his human body, the two parts of him fusing until inwardly, he matches the outside.

_ Of course, my mistake, _ he says with a soft rattle, drawing her close and rumbling her name in her ear. He feels her slipping, on the precipice of a deep slumber when she holds him close, pulling her down with him.

A peaceful slumber. What a concept, he muses to himself, and he gladly tangles himself into her grip, embracing her, both of them sinking, sinking, sinking below fields of stars and beneath rivers of quicksilver, somewhere else in dreams they would share, wandering places they know, they knew, and places never seen before. There is only _ peace, _ a rest he had craved for centuries, and he would revel in it for every second possible until dawn rouses them once more.

Fingers interlaced, a smile shared, and together they walk into their own utopia.

**Author's Note:**

> When will we, too, get our Big Monster Boyfriend to snuggle us tenderly.


End file.
